


Knowing & Learning

by theoreticalpixy



Category: Thor - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, First Time, First time as a couple, Loss of Virginity, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-21 03:27:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4813238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoreticalpixy/pseuds/theoreticalpixy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes taking the next step is easy. Thor/Sif first time fic</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knowing & Learning

Sif draws back in fleeting second guesses. It was too much. She shouldn’t have kissed him, she thinks. But they’re giddy and warm with mead and she couldn’t help herself.  

She shouldn’t because last time was in the training ring four days ago and they both knew how that had ended. Embarrassed and caught with hands under clothes by one of their old instructors.

It was getting harder every day not to do something rash. 

Thor only smiles and hand pulls her back to him. He kisses her hard and her arms twine around his neck like instinct. She’s pushed against the door and he presses in against her, crowding until they collide.  Part of her knows this was their unintended plan. It started the moment he insisted to walk her back to her room after their night of celebration. The way they’d waved off friends. The way he’d taken her hand as they walked. Same hand now struggles at the handle and they push inside, door kicked closed behind them.

This part she knows. Fumbling hand and tongues and the way he touches her. Hands pushing under her shirt to cup breasts and the little jolt of a gasp as he pinches a nipple. She knows the rock of their hips, the way it sparks, and the feel of a bulge in his trousers. They've done this before.

She knows the part where his hand tests the band of her leggings, the way his fingers find her wet and their touch make her hips squirm. He begins to coax her to a pleasure that is familiar in the outset but she knows tonight that the end will be different. 

What she doesn’t know is this:

The way they rush and fumble to be free of more clothing. Bits get caught along the way and somehow she feels so much more naked than ever before as they crash through her room. She doesn’t know the way they press together full nude, her back pressed against wall in their endless haste. The trembling rush as he ruts against her. She might blush at how wet she is, but Sif can only smile because of the sounds coming from him. Her own breath catches in excitement and pleasure.

Not consciously, but like fighting, like dancing, her body does know in some way. She’s not so naive to these things. Sif knows the whispers, knows bits and pieces and knows Thor has and she trusts him. To be the only girl fighting amongst men has made her delay this intimacy and she can't stand it anymore. Her thighs open for him, her sex ready and wanting and nipples peaked to catch against his chest. She wants him so badly she can’t let go, kissing harder and pushing to feel as much of their skin as she can. They slide against each other, his length - girth, and she’s worried for a flash just how well this is going to work - teasing and wet with her own arousal. She feels wanting, that ache pushing higher each time he manages to brush the nub of her folds.  She wants him inside her. She’s so endlessly tired of waiting as if it proved something.   

Thor pulls back to look at her. It’s all there in eyes and the quirk of mouth as loud as any words. Is this all right? She gives a tiny nod and bites bottom lip. A little smile tugs at corners of mouth. Flushed and wanting, _please, yes please_ , her eyes ask.

Her world spins when Thor shifts them. He lifts her to walk them to the bed. To her bed. Thor lays her out and climbs eager after her. The blankets bunch around her and she laughs at how quickly his hands are on her. At waist and breast and he kisses her before one sinks low. She huffs a little when he parts her folds, the touch of his fingers a tease for what she wants.    


His grin means he understands completely but instead of joining them he kisses her to see the way her lip juts out in protest. He nudges her legs further apart, his hand still testing her as a finger slips inside.  She whines and bears down around the pressure; it’s not enough. She knows hands - his and her own and that’s not what they’re here for. Her responses seem to be enough for him, not that she can watch him well from tight shut eyes.

But she feels Thor withdraw his hand and arrange their hips. He kisses her and she returns it with enthusiasm as her arms wrap tight around him. She can feel him nudging at her entrance and it makes her squirm, something wonderful yet torturous about the way his tongue enters her mouth in counterpoint.  He holds her there, kissing and prodding and his fingers digging into her skin in a wholly wonderful way.

He pulls back a little before finally he finally pushes in, before he thrusts inside her, and the seconds falter in hot desire. He’s not slow, pushing into her with a one solid thrust, but he holds there. Thor pants near her ear and her body throbs, confused and overwhelmed in the moment. It’s white hot and dark all at once, a strain that takes moments to ebb before her skin grows hotter.  He kisses her again. From cheek to lips and it’s only when her hips shift, when the whine builds in her throat, that he pulls out.  


The first thrusts feel strange and it makes her cling to him, a spasm through her that she can't quite stop. Her body reacting and accommodating until the sensation falls fully to pleasure.

She can see the blue of his eyes and the red of his mouth, wet from her kisses. He’s sharp and bright in the low light. It’s overwhelming to have him like this.

Her Thor. Her heart wild and happy that he is the one she is finally sharing this with.

Heady with victory Sif melts into his embrace. Melts into the building rhythm and the way their bodies fit together. They snap together harder, faster and her legs find way to wrap around him. Her body stretched around his length and she can feel the flush in her cheeks. It feels like burning, a heat through her entire body. A blood rush that was so familiar yet still different.

Everything is touch and feel, overwhelming and new and exciting - and only a little terrifying.  His hands tangle in her hair as he kisses her hard. He holds her there like he can’t let go. She holds like steel at his arms in return, mouth desperate against him. “Thor.” His name is punctuated with a cry, confused and too high with the pleasure coursing through her.

”Sif. Gods, Sif,” he echoes, and she can only keen a whine in reply as he slows their pace.

Her breaths come in needy little gasps. Confused and wanting as his forehead presses against hers. His hand shifts down her body and their touch lights up her skin. Slow strokes that torture start giving way to faster, harder. Skin slick with sweat and she doesn’t know how to attempt keeping eyes open. His mouth presses against her lips, her jaw and neck and cheeks, over and over until her arms have wrapped around back and shoulders, desperate for him. She’s close, shaking and sweat slicked and overwhelmed.  


His hand finds its way further down between them and presses at her. Rubs almost gentle even as he keeps pace with hard thrusts.  


She screams. She screams loudly and none is more surprised than she. At least, not until her pleasure has calmed and she is able to realize what she did. She does not hear Thor’s groan, rutting into her once, twice and he’s gone by the third, her passage spasming tight around him as he comes.

Sif whimpers and shifts when he withdraws. Soaked between her legs and Thor collapses half on top of her. Their heartbeats thrum in back and forth conversation, heaving breaths a punctuation as they lie there in settling heap. They are limbs and heat and confusion. They are tiredness and happiness.

She squirms first, forearms push against him in weak mimicry of action. A high whine in her throat. She doesn’t have words yet.  


He moves at her urging, groaning and grumbling as he shifts just enough to fall face first into her bedding next to her. She doesn’t realize what she’s doing as she curls into him, turning to side and pulling in small as she hides her face against his shoulder.  


She needs to be near him. Her soul fragile for a moment with quaking heart. Everyone makes such a fuss over these things and it was hard not to listen. It was hard to ignore that it was different for her, that there were reasons she’d waited longer than the boys she trained with.

Like a part of her he responds and it reaffirms every reason she’s with him. Arm around her shoulders keeps her close and he coaxes her to look at him. Thor pushes hair back from her face, the strands sticking as he looks at her with reverence. “So beautiful…”  


Had she not already been flushed color might have risen to her cheeks.

Instead she makes sticky swallow and kisses him, hand coming to cheek. They speak in slow kisses back and forth. Thor’s mouth trails to neck and shoulders in way that makes her sigh and curl fingers into his hair. She moans softly in appreciation. For awhile it’s all gentle and panting sweetness.

They shift in slow increments until they are pressed together again. They lay on sides right until Thor wraps arms around her and rolls onto his back, pulling her up.

A laugh chimes from her and he echoes it back. Thor’s hands spread her legs, urging her to straddle him and Sif obeys, settling on his abdomen. The mess of her wetness is painfully obvious like this but he only grins.  

His hips move in little encouraging thrusts, and she can feel his length starting to harden against the curve of her backside.

“Do you want to go again?”

It takes only a moment for her to nod, biting at lips and tasting him there. “Yes.” She feels the novice, watching him stare up at her as cool night air sends a chill against her hot skin.  As his stare sends a chill all of its own.

He seems to understand her hesitation. His hands run up and down her sides at ease. They cup at breast and he pulls her near. He bucks up so he can fasten his mouth around a nipple. Her breathing starts to pant again, head tips back at the feel of his tongue and teeth upon her breasts. His hands guide her, pulling her along as he shifts to lay head on her pillows. The feel of his mouth lost and found against her skin as they move and settle.

She expects him to lead her to his sex but he pulls her forward instead, urging her to make her way until she hovers over face. His tongue darts out to taste her before hands urge her down. She jolts to feel his tongue at her clit. Her hands reach for headboard to steady herself - she understands now why he moved them.

It takes moments to get used to, to find her confidence. Yet before long she is grinding hips down and his tongue tests her entrance in a way that makes her gasp and cry out. He holds her there, content as she bucks above him, her hands holding the headboard too tight as her body throbs. She convulses, his tongue pushing farther inside her and a hand moves to help. An echo of their coupling only minutes before. His tongue recedes to focus on her clit and a thick finger fills her instead, urging her to pleasure until Sif gasps so hard she nearly falls off him.

His laughter rouses her, a hand holding tight at her thigh, the rest of her body fallen to side as he failed to hold her up. She blinked hard to sense before a little laugh falls from her lips as well. He lets her fall away from him completely until she curls in a tired messy heap. He follows.  

It’s her turn to brush hair back, hand reaching for him as he clambers over her. Too happy in this moment, smiles back and forth and laughs and Sif pushes him back with a laugh when he tries to kiss her with wet mouth. He grins and tries again. She near giggles as she relents, shy to taste herself on him. But the shyness fades away, it never was a close friend of hers. She holds him at back of neck as the kiss deepens.

They don’t need words right now. They’re not good with words. Always too sweet or too sharp. But smiles and fingers and the way they move with each other becomes their own conversation. They touch and prod and push, still finding so many places to explore in each other. Which part of her side is ticklish, how he moans if she tugs his hair. He finds a spot on her neck that makes her cry out and eyes snap open. She discovers the way his entire body jerks in pleasure if she tugs at a nipple right.

It all eventually sends them play fighting, rolling on her bed in laughter and joy and teasing. He pins her only to be flipped. She earns a hand between legs when she tries to reclaim dominance, her body’s falter used to push her over again. She gets more daring as they grapple. They both do. Tongues and fingers used to cheat as they fight over who gets to claim victory. Eventually her lips fasten around the head of his shaft as they tangle - she intends to have him at her mercy. He almost loses his position completely, finally giving in to her, but Thor holds as best he can and she can feel his thigh clench.  He lets her suck at him for a few moments before he can dare summon the will to make any retaliation. His arms quake a little as he pushes her off, much to his own dismay.  Sif’s own displeasure that she did not conquer him completely only makes her pounce at him.

They tumble until both are gasping, until they find themselves rutting and keening instead of fighting, him underneath her and little whimpers leaving her mouth. She doesn’t protest as he finds her mouth, his own sounds a swallow into the kiss. They scramble against each other until they manage to align their bodies. He slips into her so easily now.

It’s slower. Her breathing comes loud in her ears and his fingers thread in hers and she grips back tight. He helps her push up, holding on as anchor as she rides him. Little rolls of hip as she grinds down, almost reluctant to lift herself so she might feel the slide of him inside her.

But his hips buck up beneath her and she wants more, slowly working her body and finding how to do it this way. Sif gets lost in pleasure and skin, mouth open but eyes closed as she starts to find her pace. When she opens her eyes she’s struck by the way he watches her. Eyes up and down her body, so delighted to watch her atop him. He watches the cording of muscle and bouncing of breast, her hair a dark tangle slipping over shoulders if she leans forward and he watches every inch so close. She watches his face in return, the flexing muscles of his arms and each breath through chest and throat and out of lips that stay parted.

She has to close her eyes against it. The things in his eyes are too overwhelming and nameless, emotions she is unsure how to count, how to accept, and although she knows her face says the same things she does not yet know how to give them voice.  

She does know she wants this, wants them in a way that extends beyond things she’s ready to say, and while she may not know what she is doing her body does. She pushes up further, delighting in long slow thrusts, the way he feels each time she sinks down upon him. He groans.

Her grip holds too tight and little whines start to slip out as she starts to overwhelm again. Strain in her legs and sweat gathering as she rides him.

His fingers pull away from one hand and she falls forward, her now free arm has to brace on his chest as she tries to keep moving, face scrunched tight in straining pleasure. She can’t get it, she’s not there but she’s not sure she can keep going.

His fingers are on her again. Rubbing at her until she cries out and collapses on top of him. It’s hazy thereafter. The feel of his come on her skin rouses a little but she lays dazed until he shifts them, until he lays her down beside him. He curls in close. He reaches to hold her waist so he might keep her next to him.

She nuzzles into his shoulder. They’re both burning in exhaustion and tender skin and her wants are the same as his. Everything is about being near and breathing until they find relaxation. She wants to burrow into him, cuddling close and only reluctantly does she reach for a blanket to cover them. It must be accomplished before she completely stops caring. Sif reaches blindly, unsure of where things have been kicked and if there are any not trapped underneath them. A second sound of searching hand signals Thor’s aid and eventually they manage to pull some coverings over them, struggling half the way and murmuring directions to achieve the feat.

They nestle under the well earned blankets and she cares far more about snuggling against him again than the fact she will not wake up in two hours with cold toes.  He seems to feel the same, pulling her closer until he can touch forehead to hers, noses nudging.  

She falls asleep sated and glowing, Thor whispering reverent words like a lullaby.


End file.
